


Here's To a Better Year

by bravinto



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, New Years, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 20-30 Minutes, Post-Season/Series 02, Reconciliation, Sensory Overload, or at least the first steps towards it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/pseuds/bravinto
Summary: There is a saying, a superstition someone mentioned that stuck in Matt’s mind: the year will go for you the same way you saw it in. If that was true, he was going to have a pretty lousy one. 
or Matt ends up in a bad way after the New Year's Eve, and his friends have words with him
update: now with podfic!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tj_teejay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tj_teejay/gifts).



> Happy holidays, dear giftee! :D  
> I chose the second of your requests and I hope this fic involves the things you wanted <3

[Download podfic from Mediafire](http://www.mediafire.com/file/lu9mlwokrsw3399/Here%27s_To_a_Better_Year.mp3)

 

There is a saying, a superstition someone mentioned that stuck in Matt’s mind: the year will go for you the same way you saw it in. If that was true, he was going to have a pretty lousy one.

 

Stupid, stupid. It was all so stupid. He shouldn’t have followed them into the city on a night like this. But when did Matt Murdock back out of a challenge? Back out of anything? When he learned that a large shipment of cocaine was arriving on New Year’s Eve, while all the police were looking out for other kinds of crime, he had to step in.

He had this. He had this, or so he thought, but it turned out the night had him. He came to the gang’s hideout and wrought havoc on them, leaving the drugs and a couple of beaten and bound lieutenants for the police to find. The rest fled, though, scattered around like cockroaches, mixed in with the celebratory crowds out in the city. He chased them, zeroed in on their frantic heartbeats. It was hard to run through the swarming streets, so he took to the roofs, filtering out all the irrelevant noises. Maybe that’s why he heard it too late. He was so enveloped in the chase that the synchronized shouting didn’t register as countdown.

“Seven! Six! Five!” the crowd down on the ground roared, and so did everyone who’d gathered on fire escapes and roofs. Manhattan was throbbing with noise, and Matt somehow ended up near the screaming center of the hive. Times Square, with its blaring music and fireworks already cracking, was way too close.

“Four! Three! Two! One!”

The ball dropped and the sky exploded. _Happy new year_ , Matt thought to himself and then something in his head just _gave_ with an awful tearing noise.

 

Afterwards there were mostly fragments. White noise. Red noise. Confetti and tinsel noise. The iced and scratchy metal railing under his hands. Gunpowder and sulfur too rich in the air.

“Look, it’s Daredevil!”

“Sick costume, bro!”

Up, down, and out of here… He leaped, landed awkward and stumbled; next moment he was flailing in a freezing cold puddle of slush, soaking to the bone.

“Are you alright, sir?”

Someone touched his arm, and he lashed out, landing a solid blow on their jaw. He ran.

Nowhere he went was any quieter, and the endless maze of rectangles stretched and stretched, devoid of any recognizable sounds or smells, drowning in music, crackers, broken glass, and fresh vomit.

 

After a long time he was dimly aware that whatever he had been looking for, he couldn’t find. He couldn’t find his way home, either. He wanted to sleep, but something kept pushing at him. Do not fall asleep out in the cold, it said; and he kept going, unsure of where he was; just to get somewhere safe and rest.

In the middle of the shoreless sea of it all Matt caught a whiff of something familiar. Someone he knew was close by - honey, whiskey, paper and sweet shampoo. He latched onto the smell and followed, moving on instinct. He climbed up two, three storeys, found a window that he could open and fell in.

 

Next thing he heard was Karen on the phone.

“No, he won’t let me. Yes, I got it removed. Okay, hold on.”

He felt something slip into his mouth.

“Ka-rn,” he tried to say around it. “How?..”

“Shush. Stay still.”

She talked some more into the phone, listed some numbers, maybe?.. Someone on the other end - it sounded like Claire, but it couldn’t be right, when did Karen meet Claire? - was speaking calmly, giving instructions. Matt wondered why; it wasn’t like anyone was bleeding out and needed cauterizing with flares… she mentioned Harlem, too. It was all too hard to follow. Besides, he had other things to worry about. For example, he was naked - what was that all about?

Something warm pressed down on his chest. Sleep suddenly felt very welcome again, and for the first time in so many hours it didn’t bear a sense of vague but grim danger. Matt closed his eyes and slept.

 

He really was naked. That seemed to have stayed constant. As the haze that lay heavy on his mind began to lift (it didn’t clear completely, though - a concern to consider), he took stock of his surroundings.

He was naked in a bed that wasn’t his own, with cotton sheets that felt raw on his burning hands and feet. He rolled to the side and curled up under the double layer of blankets. The pillow smelled like sweet shampoo and liquor; like Karen. Now, significantly more alert, Matt strained his senses. He heard Karen’s familiar heartbeat in the next room, a little slower than usual. She was probably asleep. Outside in the street and in the building around him it was quiet. The traffic was sluggish, and most of the residents were asleep or idle. Several TVs ran morning shows.

He wanted to get up and get dressed; the lack of distinct memories from last night bothered him. He had a kaleidoscope of disarranged impressions: noise, cold, loud, confusion. Karen and Claire on the phone. He had a gnawing feeling that it had some connection to him being naked in Karen’s bed. But his limbs felt way too heavy and alien. He was too hot and itchy all over, but when he lifted the blanket, it didn’t feel any better. He decided to stay where he was, at least until his bare ass was covered with something in case he were to collapse on the floor, which seemed likely to happen.

He drifted in and out for a while, until Karen’s cool gentle hand on his forehead woke him.

"Matt, you awake?”

“Yeah,” he rasped.

“I think you have fever. Open your mouth?”

“Why…” he began to ask only find a thermometer neatly stuffed in his mouth. “Hmm. What happened?”

“You don’t remember? Probably not,” she sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “Last night you broke in through the window, said something about the noise and collapsed. You were very cold. I called Claire from your burner and she told me what to do. You are alive, so I guess she _is_ as great as Foggy said.”

“You talked to Foggy about… this?” Matt asked.

“Not this, in particular, but in general, yes. We talked about Daredevil.”

“What did he tell you?”

“None of your business.”

“Karen,” Matt began, not even sure where he wanted to take it, just knowing that Karen talking to Foggy about Daredevil, meeting Claire, - it bothered him for some reason, it couldn’t be safe for any of them. “You don’t…”

“Shut up,” she said, quiet, but sharp. “Don’t ever tell me what to do. I won’t take this patronizing bullshit from Foggy, and I sure as hell don’t wanna hear it from you. Okay?”

“Okay...”

“You have fever,” she said softer. “You’re getting sick after being in the cold for too long. You should rest.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he echoed out of some spiteful, aching part of his heart, even though he knew she was right.

She took a breath to answer, and he immediately felt guilty for snapping at her.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Karen.”

“Good,” she answered. “You know what to do to make up for it.”

 

Later, when she brought him tea and leftover potato salad, he asked the question that kept popping up:

“Karen, why… am I naked?”

She shrugged.

“Claire told me to take off all the cold and wet clothes, so I did.”

“Sorry if it was embarrassing.”

“It wasn’t actually,” she smiled. “I don’t know what you are thinking when you rescue people with hypothermia, but my mind sure isn’t in the gutter.”

He smiled back at her. It was nice to smile with Karen again.

“Where are my clothes now?”

“Your gear is drying in the bathroom, and your underwear - sorry, I threw it away, it was soaked with some dirt and oil, I didn’t want to touch it.”

“Fair enough.”

“I don’t have anything that can fit you.”

He sighed.

“Well I guess I will have to stay in bed.”

“Mission accomplished,” she giggled. “What happened last night?”

He told her about chasing the drug dealers and getting lost in the overwhelming noise of the celebration.

“Thanks for taking me in,” he said in the end.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “I’m just glad you found your way here.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be?”

It was a question Matt didn’t expect. He wasn’t sure, maybe he was just used to this, to not getting along with his friends. He lowered his head and shivered under the blanket.

“Hey,” Karen said. “I know that what you do comes with a price. For you and sometimes for the people around you, I get it. Yes, I was mad that you kept me in the dark for so long, but I sort of get it, too. The only thing I can’t stand is when you don’t respect me, my time and my choices, but that has nothing to do with you being Daredevil.”

“So, we’re good?..”

“As long as you don’t act like a dick.”

 

Claire came to visit in the evening. He heard her introduce herself to Karen as she entered the apartment. The two women exchanged a handshake, their hearts beating a little faster, speaking of curiosity and anticipation. Karen led Claire to the bedroom and stepped out to give them privacy.

“No injuries, that’s a first,” Claire said instead of a greeting, the usual note of mild amusement in her voice.

She sounded tired, like you’re supposed to be on the first of January, but there was a new spring in her step. A new confidence. For all her words about how he shouldn’t push people away, she really seemed to be doing better now that she’d walked out of his life.

“You didn’t have to come,” Matt answered, and added, “but I’m glad to see you.”

“Well, I am glad that there are at least two people who want to make sure you are alive. Come on, lemme see you.”

She checked his pulse and temperature and looked him over.

“You should be fine soon. Take this for the fever.”

“What is this?” Matt asked, trying to smell the pill that rested on his palm.

“It’s just Tylenol, not _poison_ ,” she sighed. “I know you don’t like drugs, but you should rest in bed at least for another day, so it’s not like you need to use your senses all that much.”

He swallowed the medicine with the water she passed him. A pause stretched between them. Celebratory moods slowly brewed outside again, music and excited voices of New-Yorkers who had slept yesterday’s hangover away and decided to have some more fun. The New Year was observed on Monday, the second of January this year, Matt remembered. There was an extra day.

“If you don’t feel better the next couple of days, go see a doctor. The real one, who is paid for that, “ Claire said.

“I didn’t mean to bother you this time. Sorry.”

“I told you, I’m around when you need me, to stitch you up or for hypothermia first aid. I’ll help you if you are ill, but you should get a proper treatment. I know you no longer work with Foggy. Do you still have health insurance?”

“I got it covered, Claire. Don’t worry about me.”

She lifted her hands.

“You’re a big boy, I know. Foggy was worried, though.”

A short moment of annoyance flickered through Matt’s mind. Did he want Foggy or Karen or anyone else to worry about him? He knew affection came hand in hand with empathy and concern, but they were so often a hindrance or a reminder that a blind man shouldn’t be able to do anything, unless it was _despite_ , unless it was an inspiration for someone else. All these complicated feelings he didn’t know how to sort through.

“Have you seen him recently?”

“We talked a while ago, yes. What, you got a problem with it?”

“I… uh,” he stopped, sighed, tried to formulate his thoughts. “It’s not safe. For either of you. If someone can trace the link between you and Foggy and Karen, they can find out you are connected to me, you all may be in danger.”

“No,” she said slowly, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s the real reason why you are against us all hanging out.”

“And what do you think that is?”

“I think you just like to keep everyone you know apart because it gives you the feeling of control.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he said, stung.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” she smiled. “I only know that a strong-knit support team will be good for you. I’m going to do the opposite of what you like to do and introduce you to some folks, when you feel better.”

She left after several more minutes and a cup of coffee Karen made for her. Once the fever went down, Matt felt very tired, as if the weight of the past few months has finally caught up with him. First Karen and now Claire said things that picked at the sore spots he thought weren’t there anymore. The sheets were still scratchy, and being stuck in bed with nothing but a sheet and Karen’s old robe to clothe himself was still humiliating, but sleep took him as a welcome refuge.

 

Next time he woke up, someone was stroking his hair. A warm, gentle, plump hand, and an even, if a little fast, heartbeat. The familiar presence nearby, unnamed for a moment, but gradually taking shape and dimension as the fog in his mind dissipated.

“Foggy,” Matt heard himself whisper.

“Morning,” Foggy said quietly. “Karen isn’t home. She’s got investigations to investigate.”

“Why... are you here?”

He felt Foggy sigh and sit up a little straighter.

“Why do you think?”

“Did Karen call you?”

“Claire did, too. I thought, well, if I got two separate calls from two different people about you, then I should probably come and see, what the fuss is all about.”

They both chuckled weakly at Foggy’s attempt at a joke.

“You worry too much about me. You don’t have to.”

“I know, buddy. You’re a tough cookie, and plus we are pretending we’re not friends anymore, but guess what? I care about you.”

“I don’t deserve it, Foggy.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Foggy shrugged. “Here’s a little secret: whatever you do, even if you are a complete jerk to me, even if we sever ties forever, I will never not care about you.”

His heart was beating truth, and some part of Matt wished it didn’t. Some other part of him wanted to hold onto Foggy and weep.

“Would you forgive me?” he asked.

“I will. I am tired of this and I miss my friend.”

“What if,” Matt started, very quietly; it was painful, because Foggy wanted him back, but he needed to make him understand. “What if your friend can’t give you what you want?..”

Foggy snorted.

“Well, I had time to think about it. Matt, we are people, we are not set in stone, we are not made of black and white. We change all the time and we can grow. I know that if we want to fix our friendship, I gotta learn to understand you better, and I’ll work on it. But you gotta pull your weight, too. I don’t wait for you fulfill my expectations of a perfect friend, or anything. I just need to know that you are willing to make an effort, and that it all means something to you.”

His voice grew shaky by the end of his speech. Something clenched tight horribly in Matt’s chest. For a moment he wanted to run, or maybe hide under the blanket and never come out.

“Foggy, I…” he said, not knowing what to say next.

“Nah. Let’s not do this now. Just… so that you know where we stand. If you decide to talk about it, my door will be open. Now, I brought you clothes and stuff.”

 

Foggy had sweatpants, jeans and a hoodie, socks and boxers in his bag. Matt was glad to finally be able to walk around the place. They made pancakes in the kitchen, Foggy told him about work at Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz, then left. He had plans for the evening.

Matt took a shower and got dressed properly, feeling like a human again. He was still weak but he could probably make it home, no problem. It was rude to leave without telling Karen, though, so he waited for her to return. He cleaned up whatever mess his presence had caused during the last couple of days, put the sheets he had slept on into the hamper, took out the trash and washed the dishes.

Physical labor always made it easier to think, and he had things to sort out. The world fell apart, and when it got back together, there was something different about it. A glimpse of hope. It seemed, everybody was willing to give him a chance. Maybe, just maybe, he could have a better year.

 

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy, my very own try at fix-it!


End file.
